


Koi

by ULX



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Adventure, Hermaphrodites, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Psychological, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-11-23 01:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11392506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ULX/pseuds/ULX
Summary: Set in Dragon Ball Z a few years after the original entire Majin Buu disaster, this tale attempts to take a less shounen manga/anime, more in-depth approach to our heroes and their respective situations and relationships, devoted to two special senshi in particular. It will take nothing into account from Dragon Ball Chou for various reasons. This tale is merely my continuation of DBZ. There will be graphic, mature adult, sexual, controversial elements, language, violence and themes throughout this tale, including but not limited to yaoi and mpreg. Read at your discretion. Romance/Adventure/Hurt/Comfort…  Piccolo X Gohan, Gohan X Piccolo





	1. Chapter 1

It hurts. It burns more than I would ever like to admit. Words are inadequate to convey this persistent falling, searing drowning sensation anyway. My lungs scald in agony I had thought I had known, the heavy truth waking me from any falsities as they throbbed on, feeling like they wanted to burst in my torso from the intense heat and pressure but there’s no room to. My heart feels as if it is striving with near impossibility but continued determination to pump liquid katchin through my veins. My limbs feel like they’re not there at all after all the beating I’ve taken. But I know if I give in to this, I will fail them, which must not happen! I may not have their level of power right now, but I do know what is going on, that I mustn’t give up our salvation. And rise from the depths I do, screaming a warriors’ scream unlike any other time. I. Will. Not. Lose.

I pull my bleeding self from my crumbling in the rubble, determined to tip the scale, though my breaths are faint. And then it happens. Time slows down dramatically, but problematically I seem to slow as well, absolutely helpless to stop _him_ from giving _his_ life for mine— _again_. How could I have been so stupid?!

I do not remember precisely what happened after watching _his_ form begin to slowly melt in front of me, as the swift and cruel unyielding acid attack meant for me from some intergalactic megalomaniac bastard began to eat away at him instead. But I can smell Vegeta’s veritable fear, though his expression remains painfully closed; almost taste my father’s worry as he waves at me frantically, his lengthened past his knees golden hair flickering as the last of his power falters. Tenshinhan, Yamucha and Kuririn look like a potent mix of having witnessed the most horrifying demon doing the most heinous deeds and needing to throw up. I do not believe I have ever seen all three of Tenshinhan’s eyes that wide or disbelieving before. But none of that matters to me now. And as I finally calm and clear, it feels as if something extraordinary within me is simmering down from something exponentially phenomenal to a tiny pinprick of recognition; my vision fading from me for the third time that day, but this time going to black.

====

When next I wake, I feel more sore and tired than I have in life, but I immediately sit up—grimacing at the pain—when I see him sitting there all well and pristine again in his signature purple gi, and cape and turban; his mystical black eyes peering at me earnestly, speaking volumes more than his wondrously unforgettable voice ever would.

Tears immediately spring to my eyes, and I find myself wrapping around my shishou like the small child I hadn’t been in years, emphatically hugging him and uttering probably embarrassing unintelligible blurbs of fractured speech. He really just does not know just how much he means to me, and it hurts somewhere deep when he grunts and gingerly pushes me away. But I do as he silently asks; getting back in bed and looking downward, most of my initial enthusiasm gone.

“Gohan, are you alright?” he inquires seriously after a few awkward moments of silence, his face infuriatingly unreadable, his mind immaculately impenetrable, as was his way.

No. Not even close. But knowing you’re alive and well makes continuing breathing possible. “I’ll be alright. How did you…?” I could have sworn I not only saw but felt you die…again.

“Dende was able to heal what was left of me in time. But other than your bodily injuries, he was unable to heal you. It’s been days and nothing has been able to wake you, nor could we gain knowledge as to why. Everyone is worried… Gohan, what set you off like that? I was unconscious, but your father and Vegeta said you completely lost it; that if you hadn’t drowned so much in the new transformation and unleashed raw power enough to completely shut down and pass out, you might have destroyed Earth, yourself and possibly this entire solar system. What—?”

What? I don’t remember… “I do not wish to talk about that right now.” I don’t even know how to. “Is everyone alright? Was that worthless bastard defeated?”

“Yes. And entirely. Your power was so boundless, it did not leave a smidge of him to even be smeared against the rubble,” answered Piccolo straightforwardly.

“Good. Better than the fucker deserved,” grumbled Gohan sharply, entirely meaning it.

Piccolo looked at him with widened eyes a moment, having never heard Gohan speak so crudely or coldly before.

“I only told the truth,” answered Gohan unapologetically, for once. “I am tired of heinous bastards getting away with stuff just because there is no cowardly evil thing they won’t do to perpetuate their inept and untrue illusions of power and importance. Greedy dastardly deluded fuckers, always persistent to fuck things up for the rest of us. All evildoers are the truest proof that the universe is fatally flawed; they are the greatest saddest waste of intelligence in all of existence.”

Gohan almost smirked as Piccolo looked momentarily uncomfortable in his presence then; something darker within Gohan grinning, while his true heart frowned.

“If you are alright then Gohan, your mother and father would like you to stop by their home before you return to your own place.” With that, Piccolo abruptly stood and left; his chest a little tight but his adept silence sustained.

Gohan had wished to stop him, that ache in his chest throbbing more, but uttered a quick farewell instead; knowing he probably would not be the best of company at the moment.

====

You probably still see…me as a child. My actions…far from… Fuck!

Gohan’s body jackknifed and locked up as he continued to experience the probably saddest orgasm he ever had; tears soon following as he slumped against the shower wall and shuddered. Of course it would be then that a certain someone knocks at his door, causing him to cringe, for he would know that smooth immaculate ki signature anywhere.

Rushing to rapidly wash the mess from his chest and hands, Gohan thoroughly rinsed his whole body once more, drying his form in a swift burst of ki and dressing faster than he ever had. The next moment he was at his front door dressed in some easy grey sweats and a T-shirt the same hue, with navy-blue thongs on his feet. He almost lost his composure at the sight of Piccolo wearing something much different from his usual gi: a complete baseball uniform in orange and white with the number ten on the jersey, and an orange baseball cap; Gohan biting his lip in attempt to hold it all in. Piccolo was so…

“May I come in Gohan? Or is this a bad time?”

Gohan quickly moved aside, signaling Piccolo to enter and sit on his ruddy brown sofa.

It was quiet a long awkward moment before Piccolo finally turned to Gohan and gazed at him strongly. “How have you been kid?”

Gohan felt like he had been sucker punched. True, he had not only dropped out from college and lost the girl of his mother’s dreams for him, but he had pretty much isolated himself for months now after that incident where he had had to watch Piccolo die, literally melt before his eyes. That single moment had brought so much clarity and simultaneous dissonance to his tortured soul that he had not words for it. He didn’t care what the others said or thought. He did not want anything to do with his old life for a while. And until he felt like he wasn’t continuously crumbling, he would not be a bother to anyone. No one deserved to have his frustrations taken out on them; at least not the people he loved and cared for: they were decent. But he would be lying if he said he wouldn’t thoroughly enjoy pounding a dastard into absolute disintegration. So many were not worth the time it took to vanquish them due to their own craven heinous deeds, but golly shouldn’t they be cleansed from the earth and universe entirely.

“I’m alright,” Gohan finally managed, running a shaking hand through his significantly longer more wild Saiyajin locks, his eyes trained to nothing in particular ahead him.

Piccolo actually sighed audibly. “I understand you not wanting to deal with your mother’s typical antics, and Gokuu can be anything but helpful at times, but Goten is hurt you did not come to his game today,” he informed evenly, though his eyes shone with some disappointment. “You basically helped raise him before Gokuu returned to life,” he added.

Gohan’s tail decided to curl and flick angrily then, revealing itself to Piccolo for the first time, though it had been back since his new transformation; Gohan fighting the rising growl and simultaneous persistent agonizing tears that pressed to come forth.

“Gohan?”

“I have stayed away _because_ I do not wish to hurt anyone,” he finally admitted, unshed tears shimmering in his eyes as he finally found the courage to look Piccolo in the eye. “The new transformation changed me somehow. I cannot return to who I once was. Believe me, I have tried.” Even Videl finally gave up on me.

Piccolo’s eyes narrowed as he attempted to control his own feelings, his ears moving tighter to his skull as he felt profoundly for his dear pupil and friend. “Gohan, I know I may not be the most dependable when it comes to things like…emotions. But, I had hoped we were more than student and teacher. I have considered you my dearest friend for some time now,” he confessed earnestly. “If there is anything I can do to help, please let me.”

Piccolo’s eyes widened comically when his arms were suddenly full of his dear friend and student, but he steeled himself for both of them, finally wrapping his long powerful arms around Gohan and embracing the weeping young man warmly, even rubbing his back.

After a few necessary cathartic moments, Gohan finally eased away, his face flushed with embarrassment and weariness.

“Do not feel less for being a real person. We all think and feel and have regrets Gohan. But as long as you are willing, you can always be a better you today than you were yesterday. Now, I would like for you to start training with me again,” urged Piccolo firmly, his need to help his cherished friend mounting.

Gohan frowned and turned away. “I do not think I can Piccolo san.”

“I understand your fears, but you can be helped Gohan. You should not have to be afraid of your own power. We will start with deep meditation. As I taught you, everything begins with the mind. Once you have your head right, the rest should be easy in comparison to manage, with time,” Piccolo urged more resolutely, placing a large deft hand upon Gohan’s shoulder. I believe in you wholeheartedly kid. There is no one in the universe I trust more.

“Alright,” finally caved Gohan, shamed for how weak he both felt and sounded. But there was no one in the universe he trusted more than Piccolo, not even his father, and he was in severe need of help. “But please, not today. I just want some peace,” uttered Gohan softly, leaning forward and cupping his own face in his hands, beginning to shudder once more.

Piccolo’s face broke then, much emotion filling it from his core. But he was glad Gohan wasn’t looking at him, taking a deep breath and opting to embrace him once more. “May I stay today, just as your friend, not your sensei? You must be hungry. I could make something,” he offered hopefully. Gohan looked so awfully stressed and malnourished; it really broke Piccolo’s spirit to see him so far from his usual self.

“I…would l-like…t-that,” mumbled Gohan into his gi, “thank you.” And Piccolo was probably the only person who would catch those softly muffled words clearly, his chest warming as he was given permission to stay, hugging Gohan even closer.

====

Just knowing Piccolo was there and accepting enabled Gohan to rest peacefully for the first time in a while. So when Piccolo gently prodded him to come eat, he still did not feel like moving. But the divine scents wafting in from the kitchen made his disheveled tail curl, urging him to rise though his eyes were still heavy.

When he finally got to the dining table, his eyes bulged at the all the delectable food in front of him: so many dishes of tender meats and al dente vegetables in immaculate sauces; elegant soups and broths; fluffy rice piled higher than he’d seen in months; pitchers of teas and juices in abound as well.

“Where did you…?”

“I have learned various forms of cooking from watching Popo san, your mother and even your grandfather for years. As for the food, I went shopping while you were snoozing. Let’s just say as long as you eat all of it, that will be payment enough.”

Gohan nodded dumbly, carefully grabbing a couple empty bowls and some chopsticks. The smells of the food were easily making him salivate. But it had been a while since he had had a thorough meal, so he opted to try some warm broth and rice first. And his tail curled as it was surely the best soup and rice he had ever had.

Once he was sure his stomach would keep everything down, Gohan went to town clearing the table of its contents, a small smile tugging the edges of Piccolo’s face as he watched at the other side of the table, sipping at his own ice water in intervals. And once the table was clear, Gohan rubbed his tight belly sighing with satisfaction and thanking Piccolo for the feast.

It had gotten late by then, and though Piccolo was anxious about leaving, he knew he should give Gohan some space. And he would surely see him again tomorrow. He was not going to allow his most cherished friend to suffer vainly alone anymore; somehow he would help him feel whole again.

“Goodnight Gohan. I shall see you tomorrow,” offered Piccolo, once they had both reached Gohan’s front door.

“Goodnight… And thank you Piccolo san,” said Gohan softly. He yearned to hug Piccolo once more, his scent and person more than inviting, but he thought that would be pushing it. Piccolo had already been incredibly tolerant of him.

Piccolo nodded in answer, looking Gohan over once more before taking to the sky.

After washing up once more, for the first night in ages Gohan slept soundly and without dreams; hugging the sofa cushion to his chest that was laced with Piccolo’s ethereal scent.  

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

_Gohan, stop fighting it. You know how to do this. Let what is be. We are all emitters and receivers of the vast universe, as part of it. Thoughts are merely another form of energy to be transmitted. Relax and let your mind be itself without fear: thoughts and feelings will flow, no matter what they are of, as the movement of the universe is endless. Let them come and go, allowing them without holding onto or accepting them or worrying about their meaning, and letting yourself actually become peace. For, as vast and extraordinary as the universe is, some of those persistent contemplations are not even yours as you so believe._

_Piccolo san! It’s not that simple. I feel like I’m fighting a continuously growing demon, a losing battle; that if I fully let go, I really won’t be me at all anymore!_

_Anxiety is a response, a reaction, not a rational action Gohan… I am not saying this is easy. But focus on your breathing if you must focus on something. The more you focus on what you believe the problem to be without a viable solution, the greater a problem it will become. Focus instead on peace; make your breaths steady and become serenity incarnate. As per your request, I am not in your mind with you as I could be, merely anchoring you, so what happens or not is up to you._

Gohan sighed audibly and internally. He was veritably terrified. He had already done something unforgivable to Videl, barely regaining consciousness before going all the way: there really weren’t tears enough between the two of them to make up for he had almost done and how far he had actually gone. And even though she had forgiven him before finally deciding to leave permanently for both their sakes, he would never forgive himself. Not after…

And here he was being selfish again. Piccolo ought not to be tainted by him; if he went any deeper with him, he would be. He should not have given in to his weakness, to the viscous loneliness and just continued to avoid and dismiss his shishou and everyone else as he had been. It would have killed something deep within himself, but at least Piccolo would have eventually stayed away that way, couldn’t be damaged by him. This would surely…

“Gohan,” alerted Piccolo aloud, grimacing, “this is getting us nowhere. If you are not serious—”

“I need to go now. I am sorry Piccolo san. Please, just leave me be.” There just is no hope for me. I have already been through this so many times myself; nothing helps. I can no longer…

And with that, a severely harried Gohan flew away from the quiet wasteland; leaving a heavily sighing Namekkuseijin master to frown deeply alone, his chest agonizingly tight, a pressing burning behind his eyes at his helplessness to help his dearest friend; though not a tear would fall.

====

Bakoom! Whoosh! Blast! Piccolo continued to go fiercely at his double as he had been for days now since Gohan completely shut him out, the unrelenting violence akin to a time when he was much younger and full of angry hatred, ignorance and angst.

Why Gohan?! Why won’t you let anyone help you? Do you truly mean to suffer alone for nothing for the rest of your life? Why are you punishing yourself? You are the kindest most decent person I know: there is no possible way you could deserve this! Why won’t you let me help you? WHY—!

Piccolo abruptly stopped his self-versus-self brawl then. Something was horribly wrong, even more so than usual; he could feel sheer dread pool heavily in his gut like hot molten lead. And he hurriedly reabsorbed his beaten double, cringing as he felt every smart from his bout and the mounting alarm for his deshi, quickly using the Shunkan Idou he’d learned from observing Gokuu for years; taking himself to Gohan’s lonely little house capsule out in some off woods just as lonely, terror and frustration building as it took strong and severely focused will to take him there without a viable ki signature to lock on to.

When he got there, lying in a darkening pool of his own blood unconscious was Gohan, barely seconds away from death after having severed his femoral arteries and bled out; Piccolo’s brain kicking into overdrive and using Shunkan Idou to rush him to Dende, tears actually pooling his eyes. What a fool he was! He should have stayed with Gohan whether he wished him to or not.

====

Dende’s eyes widened in grief and horror; he rushing to the bloodied Piccolo and Gohan, and lifting his healing hands over both their disheveled forms, Gohan’s pale form ghastly limp and Piccolo’s a mess from beating himself senseless, Dende beginning to heal them both with everything in him.

Once Gohan awoke, he jumped out of Piccolo’s arms and looked away ashamedly.

“Why? Why would you do that Gohan?! Do you know just how much that would kill all the people who care for you? Do you know what that would do to me?!” yelled Piccolo more passionately than he had anything ever, banging a hand over his own chest in gesture and grief, honest tears finally falling from his disbelieving eyes, streaming down his unusually harried face.

Gohan’s eyes widened, him looking up into Piccolo’s rarely wide open face for once; tears beginning to roll down his own cheeks. “I am so sorry Piccolo san. I am not strong enough! I—”

“You are not alone Gohan. I won’t presume to completely understand what you’re going through to make you feel that hopeless. But you are not alone. Please do not ever reach that conclusion again. There is always hope.” My breath may as well have stopped too if I had not reached you in time…

“Piccolo san!” cried Gohan, both distressed senshi falling to their knees, Piccolo enveloping Gohan in his mighty arms, unwilling to let go.

Dende wept silent tears of his own, holding tightly to his staff, feeling severely incompetent then. How had he not known Gohan was so severely in need of help? How could he call himself Kami of Chikyuu after failing his dear friend so?

After a few, Gohan reluctantly pulled away from Piccolo and stood; his eyes downcast as shame and anguish permeated his form.

“Gohan?” asked Piccolo tentatively, standing once more himself.

“I need to get back to my house. I set it to self-incinerate within twenty minutes after…” Both Piccolo and Dende bit their lips at that. “I didn’t want anyone to see my body. I wanted to just disappear… Please don’t tell anyone? They really would not understand, would only make things worse.”

Dende did so reluctantly, but did promise. Piccolo remained silent; his face having been wiped, his typical stern façade in place.

“Piccolo san?”

“I will only promise that under the condition you let me start living with you until you are stable again,” answered Piccolo adamantly, his eyes boring into Gohan with all severity. There was no way he going let Gohan out of his sight now that he knew it was this deep. He would truly help him, even if his own life depended on it.

Gohan grimaced. That would really not be a good idea. Horribly scenes of what he had almost finished doing to Videl stinging the front of his mind. He really would not be able to remain if he ever hurt Piccolo in such a way. And as high as his senses were now, them living in the same house would not be a good idea. He already felt the dominant pressing urge to—

“Gohan,” pressed Piccolo more firmly, though levels of unease did lace his usually trained voice. It wasn’t as if he could make Gohan do anything. It was ultimately his choice. No being on the planet, or the solar system for that matter, could make him do anything with the power he had; Gokuu and Vegeta had explained enough, as if he couldn’t feel it himself.

Gohan sighed audibly, raking a hand through his disheveled locks. His eyes went to Dende then, silently imploring the young god to give him and Piccolo some privacy. Dende nodded, a little hurt shimmering in his eyes, but he went to a sealed chamber within the Temple to offer the privacy Gohan desired.

When Gohan finally found the courage to look up into his shishou’s deep dark eyes, he sent as much emotion to him as he could, willing him to understand. “Piccolo san, I almost brutalized and raped someone I care for immensely, someone I thought I was going to share the rest of my life with. Now that can _never_ be. Though I managed to come back to myself in time, I did thoroughly scare and bruise her. And the horrifying look and stench of terror from her then will never leave me. I do not ever want anyone to look at me that way again— _ever_.

“At first I thought it was just my Saiyajin side becoming more potent after that extraordinary transformation; that I could train rigorously to find some semblance of normalcy again. But after much meditation and training did nothing to help it, and talking seriously a while with Vegeta, it seems more feasible that control is actually becoming increasingly difficult because of my human side. As civilized as they consider themselves to be, they are still far from it in truth: there are still way too many humans that do the most horrible, primitive, craven, what should be unthinkable things without a second thought or a drop of shame, even to each other, even little children. That tainted human blood runs through half my being. My Saiyajin blood merely makes things stronger, more solidified, potent. As cruel and battle-obsessed as most of the Saiyajin were, they were never so utterly craven and shameless about their deeds: they usually did their dirt upfront arrogantly, even foolishly so until someone more powerful took them over and destroyed them. The conflict lies in my human half. Too many lust for the most atrocious; raping, murdering, committing genocide, enslaving, stealing and twisting histories and polluting lives across the world, including the planet itself, for no good. There is so much horrendous negative history and continued atrocity in all humans’ blood, DNA: I am no exception. This sickness in me is too much!” Gohan paused then, tears filling his eyes once more, his fingers digging into his disheveled wild locks.

Piccolo wanted to say something but decided to just keep listening, his fangs sinking into his bottom lip unconsciously with his own deepening chagrin.

“I could not control it Piccolo san! The deeper I go, the more of me that is lost! Yet I cannot merely continue on either. What if it happens again and I don’t stop, _can’t_ _stop_?!”  

Piccolo actually paled then. Of all the evil things he had done as Daimao and even the son and reincarnation of Daimao, rape was not on the list—not because he had lacked the cowardice and wickedness at one time to do such a thing, but because Namekkuseijin did not normally possess the urges that make such an event probable. But he knew well what it was, had seen it enough on Earth—something only the weak, cowardly, primitive and inept did; for the truly strong and intelligent never needed to take or overpower what was not really theirs for any purpose. Rape—like many sad things in ill primitive imperfect worlds—was about the false notions of power, who had it and who didn’t; who got to pass on their “seed” and whatnot else: only the smallest feeblest minds would do such a thing. And in that moment, Piccolo had tremendous trouble coming to grips with the fact that his dear deshi was capable of such a thing. But he also knew then, he could not give up his argument if he was to help him, if there was to be hope. He would not give up on him.

Piccolo did not know if such a promise ought to come from his mouth, but he yearned to make it just the same, would do his all to keep it, that truth filling his voice and eyes profoundly. “I will stop you Gohan. No matter what it takes, I will not allow you to lose yourself again. But you must let me help; let me stay with you?”

Gohan’s shoulders slumped further if possible. He was not some undisciplined child. He had been very sane and rational when he finally decided to take his life… There was just so much…for so long. There weren’t any other options. He had even tried to wish it away for crying out loud! But Shen Long could not interfere with anything natural…

I would never be able to forgive myself if I hurt you. But I already have, haven’t I. “Can we compromise Piccolo san? Visit me weekly and—”

“Daily,” interrupted Piccolo adamantly.

Gohan sighed, wiping his face on sleeve. “Thrice a week. And I promise to call you first before letting things get too bad. Fair?” It’s already pretty fucking bad. I don’t really see how this will make anything better. You’ve trained me well and nothing I know really helps… But I can’t stand knowing I’m hurting you, that is the last thing I ever wanted, so I’ll try.

Piccolo actually frowned. That was not what he wished, but he knew he could count on Gohan’s promise at least. That was something he and his irksome father were both apt in—keeping their promises, if nothing else. “Fine, but I am staying with you tonight—period. Grab onto me. We must get back to your house before it blows.”

“Yeah. Just a minute.” After asking the suddenly present Popo san to get Dende, Gohan apologized to Dende for a good few minutes, he and Piccolo thanking Dende and Popo san and wishing them both well before disappearing off the Temple.

====

After hurriedly reprogramming his house capsule, cleaning up his own dark pool of blood proved to be another type of inexplicable catharsis for Gohan, one he didn’t have words for but felt necessary just the same. And after showering, he felt an odd sense of peace. Even though Piccolo’s scent was making his rational consciousness fluctuate, he felt relieved having his presence there. Maybe…

Piccolo continued to observe him like a hawk all the rest of the day and into the night. He hadn’t been able to get Gohan to eat, but Dende had restored him, so he should be good till the next day. He just hoped with his entire being that he would be able to help him to fully heal every level of his being; that he would one day be blessed to see that smiling shining face of his dearest friend and most apt pupil as wholeness and happiness shined true in him once more.

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

It had been weeks since Gohan’s “incident”, and although the progress Piccolo had hoped would be made on his psyche hadn’t yet, Piccolo was at least somewhat relieved to feel that Gohan’s ki was somewhat lighter with him coming around, more controlled, not as strained. And thankfully he was no longer hiding from him, though his mind was still securely locked, far from an open book. But as he flew making his way to Gohan’s house for the third time they’d agreed to each week, he was intercepted in midflight by a none-too-happy Saiyajin.

“Piccolo,” said a rarely mean but could-be-when-it-wanted-to voice, its timbre much lower and serious than usual.

“Son,” responded Piccolo evenly, his masterful stoic façade in place, his keen eyes gleaming fierce onyx.

“You weren’t going to tell me, were you.” It wasn’t a question so much as a challenge.

“I have been keeping my word to my dearest friend, nothing more,” averred Piccolo strongly, folding his arms sturdily. He knew how easily he could be killed by an ascended Super Saiyajin when they were serious, and the thought did give him not so much pause as saturated frustration, his own pride aching at his own lacking, despite his best efforts and continuous training. The universe truly was not fair.

“You didn’t see him that day Piccolo. None of us could have stopped him, let alone oppose… He’s my son, and I do love him; he will always be part of my heart. But the earth, maybe…”

Son can’t be serious, can he?! I’ll kill him. I swear I’ll find a way to kill him again, so help me!

Fury swelled within and pervaded Piccolo’s form then, rising up his spine like a hurricane, he actually unfolding his arms and grasping Gokuu by the scruff of his gi top none-too-kindly. “You knew! And let him attempt and almost succeed in taking his own life?! How could you Son?! How fucking could you!?” growled Piccolo with all that was in him, emotion he did not know he possessed roaring to life as he began to wale on Gokuu with all the power he possessed. He was losing what little respect he had had for the irksome Saiyajin. If he had been Saiyajin, he knew he could have atomized Gokuu on the spot for all the sudden saturated rage he felt. But at least he had the tailed fool on the run powering up, that annoying unnaturally coruscating blonde hair lengthening to the lout’s ankles and bones transforming enough that his brows protruded unbecomingly on his stupid face.

Piccolo’s rage only heightened when he caught that predictable, obnoxious Son-smirk on that infuriating ageless face, the one that shone just how obsessed and enjoying he was of battle, the purist proof that despite his annoying attitude and mannerisms Son was indeed Saiyajin. And Piccolo found in that moment, he had never abhorred him more; his own power rising past his limits as his keen psychic mind spiraled, his fist flashing through Gokuu’s defenses and landing square in his nose with a sonic boom.

Gokuu actually yelped, stalled and gingerly held his bleeding nose incredulously; his eyes screaming at Piccolo as he attempted to regain his balance. He had actually busted his nose while he was a Super Saiyajin 3, which Piccolo could tell annoyingly was just as unsettling to Gokuu as it was arousing, only upping Piccolo’s ire, his sentou ryoku somehow increasing.

And for once in Piccolo’s life, he moved irrationally, proceeding to beat the ever-loving daylights out of his formal lifelong rival; something within feeling just a little more whole with each and every solidly bloody hit he landed.

Even Vegeta eventually showed up, the fierce power the two mighty senshi were throwing at each other—blow for extravagant blow—catching his attention, his pride not allowing him to pass it up. And as he saw Gokuu oddly losing, his body actually falling limp to the earth with a clamorous thud; something in Vegeta did click, urging him to rush out to fight the strangely frenzied Namekku. Though, it did not take long for him to fall too at his hands; his eyes incredulous as his vision blurred until unconsciousness overwhelmed him.

Piccolo had actually beaten two extraordinary ascended Super Saiyajin at their respective strongest with his own hands. But instinct did not let him feel a drop of victory. Eyes were upon him, powerful predatory eyes; he could feel them, just as he could taste his own blood and sweat mixed with Gokuu and Vegeta’s on his lips. And before he could so much as swallow, he felt adamantine hands vise-grip him deadly one instant from behind, tossing him with unrivaled power to the earth the next; his body producing an extraordinary ballooning crater outwards from his figure, the all-consuming pressure it felt knocking all breath from his lungs and thought from his head for a prolonged moment.

When Piccolo finally caught his breath, pain shattered the motion before he could take a full one, he unable to move as the most incredible being glared and roared down at him from above, easily keeping his arms and legs immobile with his tail and form as he sat upon him dominantly. Piccolo could not help but take a moment to marvel at the extraordinary new form. Gohan had not only reached a new level of power but a new dimension entirely; Gokuu’s words now somewhat understandable as he beheld him, Gohan’s earlier actions against himself more plausible now, even if still excruciating. He could feel rather than sense that Gohan’s body was practically indestructible in this immaculate form: his skin and eyes pure black like the absolutely darkest jeweled void, his body able to absorb and reflect every amount of power and pressure without causing a bit of harm to itself, so much greater than a mere ki-shield; black violet-and-gold-tipped glowing fur covering every centimeter of his body, save a bit of his chest, neck, fingers, toes, parts his genitals and his face; his wild jet black hair lit in the lovely yet eerie glow as well; his power, his ki absolutely unreadable, not at all erratic or exhaustive, unlike all of the other Super Saiyajin forms. Though, only a thickheaded fool would not understand that they were being overwhelmed by an insanely awesome cosmic colossus while in his presence.

Feeling so awesomely overwhelmed, Piccolo uttered the only word that popped into his head then, one he had probably never spoken aloud in his life before then, “Suteki,” fully meaning it, as witnessing the amazing sight as an adept warrior would be something he would never forget, awe and humbleness filling him the longer he was in Gohan’s presence, drowning any fear or uncertainly as he gazed raptly up at his amazing deshi.

This made Gohan cock his head to the side like a curious animal, his fierce growling stopping, lips covering his fangs and face smoothing as he bent down to sniff Piccolo thoroughly. Piccolo understood this primitive dance from creatures on Earth. If he were to live through it, to keep his promise to Gohan; he must not upset, anger or refuse him while he was in such a rationally unaware instinctive state. Closing his eyes, he carefully lifted his head, offering his neck fully and therefore his subordination to Gohan.

Gohan brought his face close to Piccolo’s then, his lengthened fangs gleaming once more as he growled to test him. Piccolo let himself go fully limp, so there would be no misunderstanding. He was offering himself to him. And hopefully in doing so; he could help Gohan to differentiate between his distinct levels of consciousness, his segments of self, coming back to his awareness and eventually learn complete control of the whole. Such control and awareness was quite the task for any intelligent individual, especially with primal tendencies, but it was possible. Though, for now Piccolo was only strong enough to help quell the surface beast. As long as he stayed calm and was willing, he would be keeping his promise to Gohan, his dearest friend. Though, he really wished his telepathy could get through to his mind.

After Gohan had sniffed and licked on him some more, Piccolo had to bite his lip to hold his gasp as Gohan proceeded to remove each and every piece of his thick fortified clothing, tearing it with ridiculous ease as if it were tissue paper, working his way up to down from his turban.

Meanwhile, Gokuu and Vegeta shook the panging smarts from their heads as they attempted to get ahold of their surroundings again; their eyes widening and shooting to the uncanny scene just meters from them.

Piccolo felt their consciousness’s shift. _Please, both of you. Get out of here now. Stop Goten and Trunks from seeing this. They are on their way. There is no other way to stop him; his mind is just currently unreachable. He is just too powerful; I have tried. Go now!_

Both full-blooded Saiyajins’ eyes twitched; a sickness and thick self-loathe filling each of them at what was taking place, but mostly at being powerless to do a thing about it. Reluctantly, both gave Piccolo a mental nod in the affirmative, doing their best to get up and leave swiftly without drawing attention to themselves, a piece of each of them dying as they did.

It was so sudden, the shocking sensation that filled his body when Gohan abruptly licked a certain place between his legs, that Piccolo did spring upward without meaning to in reaction; black eyes instantly on him, teeth soon denting but not breaking the skin of Piccolo’s inner thigh, though those mystical pure black eyes would not leave his own.

Piccolo bit his own lip again and attempted to breathe through his nose; severe unease filling him as he lay back down and opened his legs wider to let the being Gohan currently was know he was not being insubordinate, was just honestly overwhelmed. Gohan took his teeth off him then, licking the area devotedly until it was glistening, it taking every ounce of discipline in Piccolo to not moan or twitch. And when Gohan did begin to lick that dark large lime slit between Piccolo’s legs, beyond the pink of his abs, which held and protected both his Namekku female and male hermaphrodite genitals, Gohan’s long tongue going inside licking and probing as deeply as it could go; tears streamed from Piccolo’s eyes, the incredible new sensations and pressure too much to hold in without reacting at all. Gods, what was he doing to him?! He’d never…

Gohan scented his tears and stopped, lifting his head up and beginning to keen so loudly Piccolo’s ears hurt.

_Please, just get it over with. This state, these amalgamating feelings are too much for me, Gohan… Please…_

Piccolo was unsure if Gohan caught his mental plea, he hadn’t caught any of them thus far after all. But a relieved sigh emitted from him once Gohan thankfully ceased keening. Though, that was soon overcome as Gohan suddenly slumped onto his being, unconscious.

 _Gohan!_ “Gohan!” Intense alarm ran throughout Piccolo as he could not feel if Gohan was alive or not; he swiftly sitting up and hugging Gohan’s limp form to himself, tears actually streaming down his face.

Shock and relief overwhelmed him when Gohan’s transformation began receding, he able to feel Gohan’s soft breath and hear the wondrous beat of his incredible heart again; Piccolo hugging his dearest close to his person and rocking them both for a moment before getting himself together.  

Piccolo had never felt so holistically fatigued in his life, but he managed to steal a peek down at Gohan, relief filling him that he was still completely unconscious but fully alive, the transformation wholly receded. Mustering up as much will as he could, Piccolo clothed and refreshed both their forms with one of his greatest techniques; it taking the last of his energy to Shunkan Idou them back to Gohan’s house, he falling in heap with him onto his bed, his eyes closing against his will.

====

When Gohan finally woke later that night, horror suffused his face as fractured memories began to rise to the surface and connect, quickly alerting Piccolo back to full consciousness.

“Gohan, it’s alright. Calm down. Please.”

“How the hell is it alright?! I…ra-raped you. I should be kill—”

“No!” yelled Piccolo at the top of his lungs. “You did not, and no one is killing anyone. We are both fine. And—”

“Dammit Piccolo san! I don’t want you sacrificing yourself for me ever again!” I cannot bear it!

Piccolo’s face became absolutely resolute then, his voice firm as he strove to hide his own emotion. “I am not nor did I sacrifice myself for you. But, you are to me... I will never be able to promise that I will not ever risk myself or safety for you.” Because you are part of me, a part that if was taken, I could no longer go on. “It is not fair for you to even ask, and you know it.”

Gohan sighed heavily, head falling into his hands. His worst fears had been realized. He’d really been that weak… “So, where does this leave us?” Where could this possibly leave us?

“What do you mean?” inquired Piccolo, truly vexed and mentally weary.

Gohan’s eyes widened. “I raped—we had sex together, I guess. So what happens now?”

“Actually, search your memories thoroughly, we did not. You came close, but you stopped yourself in time… You just need to learn control, and you can. You have been getting better each week, though minutely. We can do this Gohan…” We can get you well and balanced again. We must. “And, that new form was truly amazing,” informed Piccolo with genuine awe lacing his voice with the disquiet. “I want to see it again, with you fully aware and in control, as I know you can be. There is no telling just what you could reach then.”

Gohan frowned, deep lines denting his mouth. “You’re starting sound like my father, Piccolo san, which is not cool.”

Piccolo grimaced then. Tengoku forbid ever being compared to Son Gokuu. But he could not stop just how thinking about that amazing experience with Gohan had made him feel on so many levels; he had never felt so thoroughly overwhelmed yet alive, and they hadn’t even crossed the threshold. But the deepening frown Gohan was giving him hurt somewhere deep he did not wish to admit, his face becoming its usual trained stoic in response. “I will return at my scheduled time Gohan.” I will never give up on you, I swear it. “Relax and meditate well until then. Try to learn what triggers it without being overtaken by it. We will train again when I return.”

“You are my dearest friend, student and comrade Gohan,” confessed Piccolo at the front rounded aqua door to Gohan’s domed white house capsule, which they had both walked to somberly quiet, neither knowing just quite what to say. “I am truly sorry if I have done anything to ail or make things harder for you,” he finished evenly, moving to take off to the air, his chest feeling too painfully tight, almost too much for breath. How many times would he fail his dearest friend? What would it take to thoroughly help him?

“Wait! Piccolo san, please.” I am hurting you again, aren’t I? That has _never_ been my wish.

Piccolo refrained from lifting up and turning around, but his immaculate Namekku ears twitched, letting Gohan know he was listening.

“Thank you, for everything. I am truly grateful. This is just, still a lot for me to handle… You really do not understand do you?” You are such an extraordinary master of the mind and so many things, an exemplary warrior and tactician like no other; yet, even you cannot fully grasp some things.

“I understand well enough. It is obvious now that you have been attracted to me on some level for a while, or you would not have tried to do… _that_ with me. Nothing can come out of one unless it is already within. However, I am not your life-mate Gohan. But I hope I have earned enough in your heart to be considered your friend.

“I did what I thought was best at the time. Though, you should definitely refrain from romantic and sexual relationships of any kind until you have full control of yourself. An Earthling would not have survived it.”

Gohan’s face heated up something fierce. “I know that Piccolo san,” groused Gohan, his face grimacing as he was forced to think of Videl and the future they would never have again; the new images and feelings of him and Piccolo together panging him too now in multiple ways; memories with both painfully bombarding the inside of his skull, adeptly squeezing his heart. For, whether Piccolo had been willing or not, whether they had gone all the way or not, it was still rape; Piccolo still had not had much of a choice. And that Gohan had gone even that far crushed his very soul.

Piccolo turned around then, awareness dawning in his eyes. “Oh Gohan! I am so sorry. I did not mean…” Piccolo bit his lip as he rarely fumbled for words.

Gohan was more than tired of hurting and regretting and feeling like unviable shit. His life was truly not happening the way he had imagined when he was a child or even believed as an energetic and hopeful tenacious teen. Although past those times, exasperated and psychologically weary; a little hope still managed to gleam in his harried eyes. Piccolo had always somehow been his reality check; whether a painful blow to the kisser or gut, or a warm breath or lenitive hand on a cold rainy day: he was the difference between his sanity and insanity, but also an authentic source and impetus of pushing him in either direction, depending. Though it and everything that had transpired to this point aggrieved him considerably, Gohan needed and wanted to be with him now. He needed so much to feel right somehow…to finally be _free_.

Looking up into his shishou’s amazing dark eyes, he moved forward, lifted up to level with him, cupped his face and kissed his lips sensually, Piccolo’s eyes widening in genuine surprise. Though, Gohan quickly pulled away, anger and guilt filling him at Piccolo’s sudden jolt.

“You’re a terrible liar Piccolo san.” Rue filled Gohan as he closed his eyes longing for his own demise once more.

Piccolo’s eye ridges move down as he scowled, he lifting Gohan’s chin so he would look at him. “I was not nor am I lying Gohan. That was the first time I had ever felt any… I have never even masturbated or felt aroused before. You must understand, I am not Chikyuujin or Saiyajin, I am Namekkuseijin, so certain urges have just never been present in me before. You basically activated my sexual organs designed for reproduction with a partner for the first time in my life. So, when you kissed me just now, I could not help but feel…”

“You liked it?” Gohan asked with a sad inkling of hope.

“Yes,” admitted Piccolo with a sigh, unconsciously touching his lips where Gohan had given him his first kiss. “It was warm, thrilling, overwhelming, yet I did not wish it to stop once you... I do not know why you have not believed me, but that is cruel of you Gohan. I have no reason to deceive you, nor would I if I did,” disclosed Piccolo more softly than usual, his face flushing vividly violet, indignation glinting in his eyes. Gohan always made him feel so many things, whether he wished to or not. This was not at all easy for him either. And did he really doubt him so much?

Gohan’s eyes widened then, his heart fluttering in his chest at the implications. It was possible then. He had no right to ask after all that they had both gone through. But… “Would you be opposed to dating me seriously then; romantically, physically, sexually, mentally, emotionally and spiritually Piccolo san?” He knew he needed to be specific with Piccolo. Piccolo was highly intelligent, but there were things he just never had to go through or understand fully.

We are already close. Please understand Piccolo san. It could work if you feel the same. And I…I need. I want so much more than ever. But I will not accept you sacrificing yourself for me. You must genuinely want this too.

Piccolo masterfully drained all emotion from his face then, though his chest felt incredibly warm, full at Gohan actually desiring to be with someone like him. But that exceptional warmth drained just as soon as it came. They would not even be having this conversation had Gohan not reached a new level of power and lost control of himself. Gohan would still be with Videl. And though he would never admit it, somewhere deep in Piccolo hurt severely beyond words at that realization.

Piccolo turned his back to Gohan then. “Do you love Videl Gohan? You would have married her, had kids and the whole messy Earthling shebang? Do not give me any crap with it: the past cannot be changed. Just answer the question honestly, fully.” Please. I want—need you to be happy and healthy, and I will do everything in my power to help you get there, even if it hurts, even if that means I cannot be with you.

“Yes, but I do not wish to share my whole life with her, not now. If you have noticed, I have been learning more about myself since you have been training me again. I only could have lived a happy life with her if I relinquished a full half of myself; meaning I would not have holistically been healthy or happy, and she therefore would not have been on some level either.

“I am not at all pleased with _how_ we parted. But I am sure it was for the best now.” I am sure of that now. What do you really feel for me, Piccolo san? Please tell me honestly. So much do I yearn for your happiness. Could you really you be happy with me? Am I enough for you or merely a burden you can no longer see yourself without?

“Why me Gohan? Obviously the desire was in you somewhere to begin with, for whatever reason, or you would not have done _that_ with me. Am I merely convenient?” almost whispered Piccolo, feeling far too small for his liking, unable to put his usual hardiness into his voice.

“No,” averred Gohan ardently, “you have always been a part of my heart, my soul… I just had not realized how profoundly you are part me, intricately layering into so many portions of my being, selfishly taking you always being there for granted…” until I saw you literally melt before my eyes. “I do not want a life without you by my side. But I could not stand hurting you or you being a sacrifice for me either. You must want this too or it means nothing,” croaked Gohan sincerely, hot tears trailing his cheeks, his form shuddering despite his mental plea for the opposite. Please tell me…

He almost jumped when Piccolo very delicately began wiping his tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “If we are to be real life-partners, mates, Gohan, we will both protect each other. Neither of us knows what the future will bring, so making promises that might be broken is no good to either of us. But we can both keep trying, fighting, pressing forward with our all for the future we both desire—together.”

“You will? You do?” whispered Gohan, his voice harsh and broken with so many agitated thoughts and emotions.

“Hai,” answered Piccolo firmly, bringing Gohan into his arms; the scent of Gohan’s anguish crushing him, slowly melding into his own. How do you not yet know how immeasurably I care for you boy, how proud I am to know you, how blessed and at peace I always feel in your presence?

“Stay?” I am sorry I am so weak Piccolo san. Please, do not think any less of me than you probably already do.

“Yes, I will stay with you Gohan, for as long as I possibly can.” That much I can promise wholeheartedly. You have persistently woven your way into and around my heart since you looked at me that first time so many seeming years ago, and saw a real person to befriend and revere instead of mere demon or monster to loathe and castigate. No one thought much of me before you, and I can never repay you enough, but to my last breath, I will try. I only wish you would have asked sooner.

It was strange, severely awkward for either of them for a long quiet moment after everything that had transpired. But they needed the transition, so Piccolo did lift Gohan into his arms after locking his door behind them, carried him to his bedroom and gingerly placed his somnolent form beneath the sea green comforter.

“Piccolo san?”

“You wish for me to sleep with you?”

Gohan flushed deeply before answering softly, his tail curling nervously. “Just sleep for now, but yeah.”

“Alright.”

And with that, Piccolo materialized something more comfortable for himself, already having done so for Gohan earlier, now wearing only long lighter mauve pajama bottoms before climbing into bed with Gohan and wrapping his longer body around his. He did not sleep a wink the entire night, but a quaint peace filled Piccolo as he felt the slight serenity begin to seep around the edges of Gohan’s wearied mind, allowing him some true rest; being able to hold him like this easing his spirit in ways he could not accurately express.

Everything had been so strange, bewildering, taxing and painful between them since that enemy had shown up and became the impetus to Gohan’s most powerful transformation, and as such the veritable disillusionment of his world, the rudest awakener, yet necessary all the same. For, despite his knowledge, wisdom and earned time alive as an extraordinary Z Senshi and individual, none of the notions and illusions Gohan held dear or as truth had solid ground within him anymore, true or not. Piccolo knew it, could feel it though the disconcerted young man was still persistently and subconsciously blocking his mind. The heavy thought sobered Piccolo too. But he as he held Gohan then, he knew he would give his all to see Gohan healthy, happy and whole again, no matter what it took or how long; that if he could see that wondrous smile shine naturally again from the once joyous young man he had grown to love, perhaps he could too.

TBC…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems someone has mistaken me for another author or two. Since I have no time for unprofessional accusations, I will be turning off comments. Thank you to everyone who actually reads without malicious intent: I will keep updating this tale when I can.


	4. Chapter 4

Brilliant purple brightly stained Piccolo’s entire face, curses in both Namekkugo and Chikyuugo flying out his mouth before his brain could stop them; Gohan’s eyes widening in actual amazement, his own face flushing deeply at what he’d witnessed his new mate doing for the first time.

“Gohan, get the hell out of here now and close the damn door!” What the hell happened to knocking?

Gohan nodded dumbly, striving to get his body to move, but his eyes and legs were under mutiny against him; he gasping as he felt Piccolo’s telekinesis begin to lift and roughly toss him out the bathroom door, slamming it shut right after.

A few minutes later, Piccolo tried to stroll out of the bathroom as if nothing had happened; though his eyes glared something fierce at Gohan as they connected in the living room, Gohan looking downward the moment he did.

“I’m sorry, alright Piccolo san. I’m still getting used to it being more than me in here and I was still too groggy to feel out your ki, so a closed door didn’t really click right away. So, you can calm down and quit having a fit. We were all curious about ourselves at one time or another, so it’s understandable.”

Piccolo’s ears flapped to his skull and that familiar deep purple flush permeated his head even deeper if possible.

“I was not curious in the way you think! I know what is down there and the purposes of each organ. As an adroit warrior and psychic, I’d be quite the fool to not know my own body by now. But, as I told you before, you activated organs only there for use with a partner, which I have never felt the need to utilize, until now. I merely wished to know if I could make myself feel _that_ _way_ again—alone,” admitted Piccolo begrudgingly, averting his face and very painstakingly not looking at Gohan.

Gohan did his best not to grin, but it was too wonderfully surreal to see Piccolo so flustered and out of his element. It was perhaps even cute. And it gave him his first real smile in a long time, which he was grateful for. He knew he’d be pushing it, but he couldn’t help the urge to nudge Piccolo further. “It looked like _it_ works fine without a partner,” he offered as politely as possible, doing his best to keep his face even, though probably failing.

Piccolo bared his fangs growled then, but all the fire drained out of him as he was easily lifted and thrown to the large sofa; his eyes widening as Gohan floated over his person and sat very suggestively upon him, making him swallow thickly. Had Gohan lost control of himself again?

“Would you like to try with me now, Piccolo san? We are officially a couple now, aren’t we? I certainly wouldn’t mind if you don’t.” How much I yearn to move forward, so weary am I of lamenting what I did not really get to choose.

Relief filled Piccolo that Gohan was still clear; his control was getting better with time, just as it ought to. Though, Gohan was taunting him, which rubbed him seriously the wrong way just that moment. “You are letting the past few weeks go to your head Gohan. You’ve still got a long way to go,” answered Piccolo in his usual stern “shishou” voice, biting his lip in regret as he watched the now rarely real levity quickly drain from Gohan’s face.

“Yeah, you are right Piccolo san… _a long way to go_ ,” Gohan agreed soberly, swiftly lifting off Piccolo’s frame and going out of room entirely.

Piccolo cursed to himself then. He hadn’t meant to be insensitive, to steal the tiny bit of joy that was finally blooming within Gohan at more often intervals. And he really loathed there being any distance between them. But he had still been a bit irked that Gohan had walked in on him trying to masturbate. That had been a very private, uncanny moment. And he was not sure if he was ready to go all the way, like he knew, could smell Gohan wanted to most of the time. This couple business had been odd to him. He had been living with Gohan for nearly a month now; had gotten used to being there and having him around, training and meditating with him again, cooking for him, listening to his sometimes incessant prattle and offering any advice he could, his scent and mannerisms, the way light beautifully shone in his profound eyes when a moment was actually going right for once—everything. Most of all just those wondrous quiet moments, being peaceful in his presence, sharing the same time and space with him when nothing in particular was going on; there was no other thing that made Piccolo feel more whole or as if he really belonged. And the progress they had made on Gohan’s psyche was as amazing as it was painful, so any failure between them made Piccolo feel all the worse.

Yes, he had agreed to be his life-partner. Yes he did genuinely wish to be with him for the rest of his life, still could not fully believe it was actually happening between them. But it would be a lie to say their relationship had not started out dangerously rocky, plenty of issues on both sides and between them. And some things just did not feel as natural as they ought to yet. However, the longer he was around him, the more certain new urges began to grow in Piccolo. And the more those urges and clarity of them grew, the more uncertain he was of himself and around Gohan, which disquieted him immensely. But he so yearned to help the person dearest in his heart. It was maddening! He had never felt so incompetent and preoccupied before. And meditation was becoming increasingly challenging as well.

An epiphany hit him then. How the hell did Gohan do it and still keep that marvelous gem of himself shining that Piccolo had indeed fallen in love with early on in their complex relationship, even if neither comprehended wholly when it first began? He ought to to learn to be more understanding and aware for them both. There was a time for rough sternness and there was a time for kind gentleness: he needed to learn to better differentiate the correct moments for each. Perhaps he was thinking way too much and not enough at once, a constant challenge for most genuinely intellectual minds...

A short while later; Gohan was dressed in black slacks, socks and a long sleeved maroon dress shirt and vest, zipping up a red sweater over top, walking to the door to put on his clean black loafers; his face devoid of emotion.

“Gohan?” asked Piccolo, real worry filling him every time Gohan was so closed off to him.

“I am going to work Piccolo san; it has been quite a while. This house capsule was not free you know, and I do not enjoy accepting handouts. There are still quite some payments before it is legally mine. Though, if I did like I ought to, I could just kill those claiming it theirs and keep it as mine. Survival of the fittest and such. I am the most powerful being on the planet after all. Life was never meant to be commoditized, you known. So-called intelligent beings that do such heinous things have no right governing any world, let alone their selves or each other,” almost growled Gohan, a wicked grin uncannily growing up one side of his face.

Worry set in Piccolo’s eyes, but he kept his face and voice firm, standing in front of Gohan tall to address him. “Gohan, are you…?”

“I am quite alright Piccolo san. You recall me telling you that I could not return to the one I once was? I was not lying. I am not the pale spoiled sniveling little boy you first met years ago, nor am I some impossibly perfect hero without a stain on his soul or some antagonizing unrealistic mythical savior or deity that never shows up when most needed if ever existed at all but many foolishly pledge blind allegiance to anyway.” Such irrationality as perfection does not exist in reality, but is a sad continued illusion of many whom refuse to wake up. The real truth is all around to those paying attention. The world is a sad and surely crumbling place because of the vilest most craven and deluded people failing themselves, each other and it horribly. Perhaps that is why most prefer fantasy over reality: they deep down know the truths which crush their souls but choose to continue to be craven wicked villains the world has far too many of, following the unnecessary fools before and around them, instead of having the courage to stand up and be the real kind assiduous heroes the world actually needs after so much unnecessary undue perdition. It does not matter if one saves one’s own life, if one is drenched in false securities and profits if one loses one’s soul and the true meaning of breathing: so few even attempt to fully understand that universal truth. But I will _never_ take it for granted again. I Son Gohan am…

Piccolo’s face smoothed then, doubt removed from him entirely as realization sunk in. “None of us are perfect, nor are we the beings we began as Gohan, as the Self continually evolves; whether for better or worse, It continues on. It takes courage and diligence to recognize and allow the progression of every segment of our Selves without becoming overwhelmed or inundated by any of them. We must teach our Selves to become the ones we genuinely wish to be and yet remain true to our natural; it more difficult still with so much corrupt preprogramming and hammering false conditioning from all around us. But truth is always within; if we listen aptly with ears unclouded, willing to learn from and accept but evolve away from the possible wrongness in us all.” We are all complex beings, but peace and worthwhile is possible; we can steer the wheel in the right direction as long as we remain courageous, even in the face of own personal demons and very persistent illusions.

Gohan’s eyeballs began to familiarly blacken like the first time Piccolo had seen until they were two large onyx gems in his sockets. Piccolo observed him warily, but did not move. He had faith in him, in them: though there was much further to go, they had surely both travailed a long way.

Gohan closed his eyes then, controlling and taking deep cleansing breaths before opening them once more; his eyes showing their usual warm dark irises and clean sclerae again as he gazed at Piccolo in relief. He was learning control, differentiation and proper cohesion of the complex portions of his natural Self and who he truly desired to be, albeit in irksome increments.

Nothing was said, but Gohan did continue his process of getting ready to go out, grasping his keys off the counter and putting on his shoes at the door. But before he could grasp the handle of their front door, Piccolo pulled him into an impromptu embrace; holding Gohan close to his person, petting his head affectionately and just intimately breathing him in a tender moment.

Gohan’s eyes widened in surprise and then lowered in relief. He needed that pure warmth so much more than he wished to admit; a huge part of him pleased that Piccolo not only allowed but initiated this necessary affection more and more. He really did not wish to go. But deep down he knew he needed to get out and do things again: it was necessary training of its own. He yearned with his all to be whole, able and strong for himself and those he cared for.

“I love you Son Gohan. Please, no matter how much your mind or this world weighs on you, do not doubt that, and do not doubt yourself,” whispered Piccolo just loud enough for him to hear, meaning it more than anything he had ever spoken. Words were inadequate most of the time, but Piccolo could feel just how necessary it was for Gohan to hear those ones specifically then, part of him wishing he would have said them sooner, also honestly needing them himself.

Gohan’s eyes shimmering with deep emotion, tears beginning to stream from them. It had taken so much to actually hear those words spoken from his Piccolo, which were so profound in and of themselves coming from his lips, but it did not make them any less wonderful. “I love you Piccolo san, so very much! Don’t you ever doubt it or yourself either.” You are incredible beyond words. I am getting much better because of you. Your patience with me has been incredible. And I will make you proud again one day. You’ll see.

Both continued to hold each other a tender moment before gingerly pulling away, each trying to straighten their persons out, a gentle glow present in each of their cheeks.

“Be safe Gohan. If you need me, just call. I will be there in an instant,” averred Piccolo seriously; tapping the side of his head and gazing at Gohan attentively. You can do this kid. I believe in you.

“Ah,” answered Gohan in the affirmative, moving tentatively to kiss Piccolo’s lips softly before leaving, relieved when Piccolo bridged the gap of his own volition, kissing him more deeply before fully letting him go.

====

A frown curved down one side of Piccolo’s mouth as he felt a certain ki not long after Gohan’s departure to work. Straightening himself out before going to it; Piccolo reluctantly answered the door, a certain spikey haired Saiyajin gazing at him intently with that contemptuously stupid boyish face. “Son. To what do I owe this visit?”

Gokuu’s face remained infuriatingly amicable, perhaps even seemingly innocent, but his eyes were as serious as they might be if he were fighting some fierce new opponent whose tactics and abilities he had yet to figure out. “So, are ya goin’ let me in, or what Piccolo?” he pressed obstinately.

“Fine, come in Son.” Let’s get this shit over with.

Piccolo was at a temporary loss for how swiftly he was suddenly taken into his former enemy’s brawny arms; truly incredulous when the ruddy-orange clad warrior actually proceeded to cry on his shoulder. He had become so accustomed to comforting Gohan that his body reacted automatically, his arms going around Gokuu and hand beginning to pet his unruly long black Saiyajin locks; Gokuu drinking that affection in hungrily.

Once Gokuu finally calmed down, Piccolo shoved him off rather harshly; truly chagrined with himself for such a lapse in control and at Gokuu for initiating and allowing such a thing. Not to mention, he and Gohan smelled far too similar, which was unsettling and befuddling on its own, the only reason such a thing was allowed for as long as it was. “Son, if you ever tell anyone—”

“I know Pic. Same to you though. Don’t tell anyone that I…”

“Son,” commanded Piccolo starkly, sitting himself down on the cerulean settee him and Gohan shared quietly from time to time, “go sit on the sofa on the other side of the room now, and tell me whatever the hell it is you came here to tell me.” Spit it out already.

Gokuu looked rarely unsure and anxious after depositing himself on the ruddy sofa on the other side of the room; his tail furling anxiously behind him, Piccolo having to control his face so it would not sneer in response.

Pointing his fingers inward to each other, Gokuu finally looked up, his face serious once more. “Thank you Piccolo. Thank you for saving my son. I would not have been able to live with myself if it had really happened. And thank you for taking care of him while he recovers. He’s a great person. That I was unable to do anything for him…” brokenly confessed Gokuu, his head going down as additional rare tears filled his large dark eyes.

Piccolo bit his own lip, it taking all his control to keep the tears in his own eyes from accumulating and falling. Why the hell did he have to feel so much for this family? “He’s a strong, amazing person. His assiduous efforts are the reason he is still here and making continued progress,” informed Piccolo as evenly as possible, as if his own arduous efforts added nothing to the equation.

“Ya don’t give yourself enough credit, but thanks again Piccolo, really. I mean it.” I truly would not have had the strength to go on if I’d lost him, especially like that.

It was quiet a long awkward moment before Gokuu spoke up again with shining hope in his youthful eyes. “Me and Chichi would like to invite you two to supper this Sunday, if nothing’s pressing ya otherwise.”

Piccolo did scowl then. “Why did you wait until he left to do so?”

Gokuu looked down and sighed before meeting eyes with Piccolo again. “I didn’t want him to run… I really did try an’ help him before, but he always ran or pushed me away, me and Chichi. Could you even imagine how much that hurt? So, when he reached that point when he felt he was done, I only allowed him to go through with it because I wanted him to stop suffering.

“He’s our son Piccolo! Of course me and Chi felt it! I had to knock her unconscious that day, and she still hasn’t really forgiven me. But, we both hope—need to see our son Pic. If he won’t agree, could you…?”

Piccolo sighed deeply then. “I will see what I can do Son. I will promise no more than that. And I will let you know out answer at a decent time before Sunday.”

“Thank you Piccolo,” said Gokuu finally, standing and leaving swiftly out the door and to the sky.

Piccolo watched him fly away irritated yet wistful. As exasperating and mindboggling as Son Gokuu could be, Piccolo could never really hate him; want to knock the hell out of him, yes, so very many times, but never absolutely loathe him. Son Gokuu was a rare powerful, good, honest soul—something the universe had too few of. Though, the pit of his stomach felt painfully tight as he contemplated the imminent conversation he would have to undergo with Gohan once he returned.

====

When Gohan finally returned, Piccolo was quite peeved, though he did his best to keep his demeanor even as he sat in the dark as he had been waiting for hours. But before he could utter a word, Gohan growled deep in his throat.

“Why do you smell like my father?” he demanded harshly, not an ounce of leniency to his tone.

Piccolo glared and stood. “Excuse you Gohan. Where the hell have you been for twenty hours? Work should not have taken that long.” He hated not being able to sense him when Gohan chose to go completely “off radar”; he really did, especially after his “incident”.

Gohan looked away and bit his lip. He had obviously been fired from his researcher’s assistant gig but had gone in anyway to see if they would give him another chance. Of course they hadn’t, the position had been filled for some time by another and there were no others positions available, even if he would have been given a chance, and his “perfect” record was now royally fucked for school and work. So, he had idly spent some hours ambling around town, keeping his ki down, not wishing anyone who knew him to notice him, until he came upon a certain new bar that caught his eye and went in just for the hell of it. The owner saw him looking about aimlessly, pulled him to the side and offered him a job on the spot, which he took nonchalantly. It hadn’t been bad and the pay wasn’t too shabby either. It had certainly been a new experience for him, which he felt he needed.

“I lost my previous job, Piccolo san, so I was looking for a while until I found another, which is why I am late. I did not wish to be spotted by anyone that might know me, so I kept myself low-key. I have been working for the past twelve hours, so it would be nice to come home to a pleasant household.”

Piccolo looked oddly sheepish then, words failing him. With his power, he still did not understand Gohan’s need to fit into the human world: from what he witnessed and endured himself personally, it was hardly a world worth being part of. Earth was beautiful, but that natural beauty had nothing to do with man: if anything, most humans desecrated and took for granted that beauty and wonder, much like they foolishly did to each other daily. But he respected Gohan’s wishes just the same; felt at a loss that there were still many things he did not understand about him.

Gohan took that rare unguarded moment to whisk Piccolo into his arms and kiss him passionately. Once he had kissed all thought from him, Gohan pulled away and smirked at his delicious mate; thoroughly enjoying the brilliant purple flush now pervading Piccolo’s entire form, watching amusedly as Piccolo tried to get his bearings.

“I made dinner earlier… I’ll have to heat everything back up if you want to eat,” informed Piccolo quietly, looking anywhere but at Gohan, his knees looking suspiciously wobbly on his grand form, like they might buckle any moment, much to his chagrin.

“What if I want to eat you?” purred Gohan deeply, making Piccolo’s eyes widen and his body shiver.      
“Gohan, what?”

“I want you now Piccolo san or you can do me, I don’t give a care who’s on top. But I need some lovin’ now. I want to be with you, to feel the sensual touch of my mate. Do you feel up to it?” _Please_ …

Piccolo very pointedly looked downward, his hands unconsciously grasping one another. He supposed Gohan had been pretty patient with him compared to most Earthlings. He had agreed to be his full life-partner and they had yet to have sensual relations apart from kissing and embracing. He really yearned to please Gohan, so it bothered the hell out of him that there was the persistent unnerving feeling he got every time he thought of being with him sexually. Hell, it couldn’t be worse than anything he’d suffered in battle or death; he’d even gotten a small taste of it when Gohan first touched him that day so seemingly long ago, in the amazing new form of his. And he was absolutely sure now that he too was significantly attracted to Gohan on many levels, sexual and otherwise. So why did it disquiet him so?

“Please forget I said anything Piccolo san,” said Gohan in his usual softer respectful voice. “I’ll take a shower. If you want to have dinner heated up and ready for me when I get out, I would much appreciate it.”

Gohan started walking to his room then but was halted by Piccolo’s grand form; lips suddenly pressed determinedly against his own, long arms going around him, firmly pressing their bodies together.

_I want to Gohan. I really do. I just…_

_It’s fine Piccolo san._

_But Gohan…_

_Just having you here with me means so much… We will work it all out in time. It should never be forced._

After a few intimate moments, the two eased from one another; each going their respective directions for their individual tasks, a quiet unsettled sigh sliding past each partner’s lips as they did so thinking earnestly about the other.

====

Both life-partners gazed up at the ceiling silently, awkwardly, only light from the moon seeping its way into their bedroom over the window sill to mystically light patches of floor and wall. Neither could sleep just then, and they had yet to finish the earlier conversation.

“What did my father want?” eventually asked Gohan softly, with a bit of real strain to his voice.

“He and your mother would like for us to have Sunday dinner with them… They have both been worried about you for some time Gohan.” We all have.

Gohan waited a moment to answer, “Do you wish to go, Piccolo san?”

Piccolo grimaced then. Of course Gohan would put it all on him, so that no matter what answer he gave, he would feel a slight twinge of guilt.

After an audible sigh, he answered firmly, “Yes, Gohan. I would like to clear the air. And I know, whether or not you’ll admit, you miss them too and the closeness you once shared; not to forget still young Goten, within whose heart you will always be his favorite and most trusted hero.”

It was quite a short moment before Piccolo could easily hear the most painful, soft but still audible weeping, it slicing his heart worse than acutest ki-blast. But he knew Gohan needed to move forward, even if he must be pushed, he needed to let go. So he did wrap his long splendid arms around him firmly, not allowing him to get up run, like he could feel he was on just the verge to.

Gohan did fight at first, so sick of feeling so wretched in front of the person he esteemed most in the universe, so disgusted with himself he wanted to vomit. But Piccolo continued to hold him close, knowing words were insufficient then, stalling the tears in his own eyes to be strong for his dear Gohan. And when Gohan shifted them both till he was atop Piccolo, and began to tentatively kiss him, the need for warmth and touch from another so visceral he could taste it, Piccolo kissed back more ardently, finally feeling up to it, punctuating his love for Gohan the best he knew how to, giving him full permission to continue as far as he wished to.

This time as Gohan sat upon him it felt right somehow: that irksome unnerving feeling was gone only to be replaced with profound need—the need to be close to Gohan as possible and beyond that to heal the both of them at least somewhat with this sacred union, he hoped. Though his eyelids crashed down almost as if he were in pain, all the air rushing from his lungs as he felt Gohan lift off him a bit, grasp hold of his wet, saluting and leaking member and begin to painfully slow penetrate himself upon it.

While a huge part of Piccolo wished to stop him for reasons he himself did not fully comprehend at that particular moment, the deeper parts of him knew, could feel just how much Gohan needed this. It was a crossing of a threshold of some sort, which only Gohan could initiate and continue of his own accord. And which only he could come fully to grips with. So, let him he did.

I love you so much Piccolo san. I hate that it must always be battle, always be a war of some sort. I want peace now, and I wish to share all of myself with you. I believe you do too. This moment is far from perfect, so please forgive me. But I need you now…

Even now there is agonizing doubt in you Gohan, but I love and trust you more than I could or have any other. Let us both move forward to the future we both desire and deserve. I am with you all the way. Please forgive my inadequacies…

It was slow and painful at first—not so much to their exquisite, powerful bodies, as Piccolo’s provided excellent lubrication once aroused—their minds conflicted though their hearts urged them on. The rhythm remained slow but continuous. The pain ebbed away as unrivaled pleasure and warmth seeped into their very bones, as their bodies and souls moved closer and closer to edge of one another and a certain type of madness. And Gohan continued to ride with that maddening slow diligence. And Piccolo let him; his grand hands leaving dents in Gohan’s toned thighs, the simultaneous need to reach completion yet earnest wish that the strange madness overtaken them would never end rising in him as well, as they both drowned in each other’s vast oceans. And when Gohan called his name in the most desperate yet strangely beautiful way he had never from him before, he too held fast to him, Gohan’s sultry warmth and throbbing around his pulsing flesh almost too much for him, his name leaving his lips as well in a higher pitched tone he would forever deny if ever brought up in conversation.

After drowning in waves of unrelenting pleasure and heat neither had known before then, each lover floated back down to Earth.

“So, you’ll go Gohan?” whispered Piccolo a long time after, feeling more thoroughly serene than he had in—ever.

“Yeah. It is time I visit home,” answered Gohan softly, peace and blissful lethargy replacing the intense apprehension and worry that had been in his voice. I do miss them. So immensely do I wish to be at my holistic best again.

“Good.” One day at time; we will be better than alright my Gohan.

Very soon after that, each partner fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Another battle had been simultaneously won and lost in a way, but both would accept and address it and whatever else was put on them wholeheartedly the morrow, sure now to do so together.

TBC…     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too cowardly and evil to hear the truth, but I meant what I said miss cowardly evil one. You messed with the wrong one. And now that I know you are a spineless hate criminal terrorist, I will not stop until you do. And those poor other others you have been unjustly harassing, I will have their back 100%. See, you made a mistake in assuming people to be one person and giving me their names (which I had not known of until you did): now innocent authors who have been falsely accused and harassed and terrorized by you will have someone strong like me backing them up. I am not as sensitive and naive as Et-chan, that's why I called you what you are. So I will not let injustice perpetuate, oh cowardly evil one. The evil one is most definitely you, no matter how you try to delude yourself or others of otherwise.   
>    
> That was for the ignorant poor excuse for a human being, the hate criminal terrorist who has been falsely accusing, slandering, attacking, terrorizing and harassing innocent fan fictions authors for many months now, so my new friend Et-chan has told me. And after the treatment I've received by this cowardly evil doer, I believe the poor sweet dear Et-chan wholeheartedly and will have his back from now on. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for the respectful and decent souls who read my story. While this is just a hobby for me, after talking with the poor unfairly terrorised Et-chan, I understand how serious writing fan fiction is for other people, and I will not tolerate injustice. So I just wanted to thank everyone who has been reading who are genuinely decent human beings. Please be kind to fellow fan fiction authors. I did not know some go through so much undue cruelty until hearing poor Et-chan cry at the injustice that has been continually forced upon him and the slights that have been committed against me now. There really are too many cowardly evil doers in the world. But as one great human being said, "Evil does not take a day off, so neither can I." I will update when I can.


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